Lucky Sevens

I’ve always liked those awards/memes that circulate the blogosphere. This one I particularly like because it’s always fun to see what other people are working on. But I guess I’m getting a bit ahead of myself. Julie over at Word Flows has tagged me in the Lucky 7 meme.

For those who haven’t heard of it before, here are the rules:
1.) Go to page 77 of your current manuscript/work in progress.
2.) Go to line 7.
3.) Copy down and post the next 7 lines, sentences, or paragraphs.
4.) Tag 7 other writers.

The following excerpt is from Degeneration, the novel I just finished. I’m changing the rules a little, though. I thought about starting on page 77. Really, I did. I even had a lovely chunk that started at line 7 and showed the main character in a moment of strength. And then I realized that I would be posting the start of the climax, the part that gave away the secret that everyone’s trying to ignore, and that’s not something I want to do. So, instead, I’m starting on page 7.

*~*~*

“No one’s saying our families are perfect,” said Lily. “We’re just saying that we love them despite their imperfections.”

“Well, my family’s not like that,” I said.

“That’s cold,” said Justin, shaking his head and looking as though I had just told him that I murder puppies in my spare time.

“What the hell do you know about cold?” I mumbled to myself, turning and storming over to the supply closet. I slammed the door shut behind me and then leaned against the wall, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.

“Can you believe that?” I heard Justin ask quietly.

“I know,” said Lily. “It makes me want to go call my grandma right now.”

I pushed myself off the wall and walked over to the supply cupboards. How dare they judge me? It wasn’t like I had asked to have a family who didn’t care about me. It’s not like they were nice and supportive and loving and kind and I had pushed them away and said, “No, please, I don’t need love and support, thank you. I think I’m good on my own.” No, all I had ever asked of my family was that they listen to what I have to say and try to protect me from harm. I hadn’t thought that was too much to ask. It wasn’t as though I expected them to be perfect. I just wanted them to try. I wanted to feel like I mattered to them. But I didn’t matter, and it was no use pretending that I did. I knew that I had done nothing wrong. I knew it was their fault that we didn’t speak, that we hadn’t seen each other in years.

So why did I suddenly feel like I was the bad guy?

*~*~*

Okay, so that’s 8 paragraphs, not 7, but that last sentence ended the chapter, so I figured it was worth adding.

And now onto the people who I am tagging in this post. I know I’m supposed to do 7, but I’ve decided just to list 5 people who either a) I know won Camp NaNo and thus probably have at least 77 pages written or b) I believe might have a current WIP that long.

Read Wear Write

 Thoughts from My Head

Cresting the Words

Novel Ideas

Frame Tale

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Posted on July 3, 2012, in awards, Degeneration, Writing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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